It has been a brutal weekend to be Towson University alumni. In fact, for the first time ever I am embarrassed to say I graduated from the school. Not because the baseball and men's soccer programs were dropped. That happens so often now we've become almost numb to how many programs are eliminated around the country by college presidents.

No, my embarrassment comes from how it was done. A level of arrogance and isolation from the school's administration toward the players, their families, and the coaches involved (even some influential alumni) that I have never witnessed in my 35-year connection with the school.

And specifically how the coaches, baseball's Mike Gottlieb and soccer's Frank Olszewski, who have combined to serve the school for more than 70 years, were treated like a pair of insubordinate school children when they were told their programs were being cut.

My interest in Towson goes far beyond my 33 years in local sports broadcasting, the last 26 as on air-anchor at both WMAR-TV and WBAL Radio and Television, where I have had the great pleasure of covering some truly inspiring men and women, who both play and coach at the school.

I arrived on campus as a student in the fall of 1977 and graduated in December of 1979. I also taught atelevision sports production class for five years in the school's Mass Communication program, while watching both of my children attend school there. My daughter Alexandria just graduated from Towson in December with a degree in Criminal Justice and my son Nicholas is a student now, a junior Economics major.

Friday morning Towson President Maravene Loeschke officially announced she would accept the recommendation of Athletic Director Mike Waddell and eliminate both the baseball and men's soccer programs. That recommendation was made in October.

Since then a task force was formed to look into the situation; a task force which reported back to Loeschke that they supported Waddell's original recommendation to eliminate men's soccer and baseball. However, there was a dissenting minority opinion of four task force members that was also sent to Loeschke. The entire process deteriorated into a ôhe said/she saidö fiasco that ended Friday morning with Loeschke announcing her decision over campus e-mail. She then hastily called a meeting of the players of the two teams that was held at the Johnny Unitas Stadium Field House on campus.

It was more charade than meeting, which she attended accompanied by a trio of campus police.

"When I pulled up, I saw some of them outside," said Dominic Fratantouono, a junior baseball player. "Then there were a couple of more when I walked in the building. Then when I got in the building there were three more. Police? Are you serious? C'mon. We're a bunch of college kids. Yes, we're disappointed but we're not going to do anything that warranted having the police there. That was a little ridiculous."

"I was blown away when I heard there was police protection," said Frank Olszewski. "I've worked here for 35 years. All the kids we've had. No one's done anything criminal and we're being treated like that! Why would armed guards be needed?I just don't see it. That's astounding to me.ö

"Did this whole thing blindside me? We were holding our collective breaths for five months. One roller coaster moment after another. One rumor after another. They were going to save it. They were going to kill it. So it's not shocking, no. What blindsided me was that I was not allowed to be in the meeting with the players. I would have never thought I would not be able to be with them."

President Loeschke's meeting with the players literally lasted three minutes. She said the programs would be dropped, added the players scholarships would be honored, took no questions from the players and then walked out, her police escort in tow. Waddell attempted to then talk to the players, though they walked out in unison before he could address them.

Fratantouono said only about 15 of the baseball team's 34 players were at the meeting because of the late notice and class obligations. Olszewski can't tell you how many of his players were at the meeting because he wasn't there. Neither was Gottlieb. They weren't allowed.

"I got a call at 9:15 from Mike Waddell," said Gottlieb, "to tell our players to be at a 10 o'clock meeting in the Field House. I said 'they're in class. He said that doesn't matter. They have to go.ö

"I was in class when I got the text." said Fratanouono. "I couldn't get over there until about five after 10 and by then it was over."

Gottlieb, Olzewski and Scott Roane, an assistant coach to Gottlieb for the last 10 years, were taken to another room in the Field House where Waddell waited with several other members of the school and athletic program administration.

"Waddell was there," said Gottlieb. "So was Jennifer Gajewski, the president's Chief of Staff, Tricia Turley Brandenburg, one of the assistant athletic directors, and Jo Ann Joseph of Human Resources. In the meeting we were told the programs were being terminated at the end of the school year and myself, Frank and Scott would be terminated on June 7th. We were handed papers stating as such.

So after 35 years with the school, two years as a student at Towson, eight years as an assistant to Billy Hunter, and 26 as the school's head baseball coach, Mike Gottlieb was fired.

Just like that!

So was Olzewski, a graduate of Johns Hopkins University, who arrived on campus as an assistant to Rich Bartos in 1978, and took over as head coach in 1982 when Bartos died of cancer.

"And guess what?" Olszewski laughed. "The human resources packet I received spelled my name wrong. Can you believe that? 35 years and they still don't know how to spell my name."

"I made it a point during the meeting," said Gottlieb, "to say that Frank, who has been the head coach for 30 years, that they needed to find a job for him for the service he's given to the University."

Their answer?

"I was given the old, 'well, it's not that easy,'" said Gottlieb. "You can't put people in positions they're not qualified for. I said there's a lot of people who are not that qualified who are working at this university."

Together, Gottlieb and Olszewski have become pillars in the community. They are universally respected nationally by their peers and locally by high school coaches, teachers and administrators for doing things the right way. They recruit locally and make their players accountable from the day they arrive on campus to the day they leave. They've brought nothing but great pride and respect to the school, winning championships and producing an army of quality young men, who have gone on to have great success as fathers, businessmen, teachers and coaches.

Gottlieb's baseball program has produced six Academic All-Americans in the last 16 years (the other sports in the school have combined for a total of four during the same span) while Olszewski's program has been awarded the Team Academic Award by the National Soccer Coaches Association the last three years.

Some, like Lance Johnson, Barry Stiitz and Patrick Healey in soccer, and Casper Wells and Chris Nabholz in baseball, went on to play professionally. But most did not. But they played hard and with passion, were committed to excellence and were all symbols of what Towson stood for -- family, strong values, solid education and blue collar work ethic.

And now the two men who coached them are on their way out.

It was more than a slap in the face. It was an insult to the two coaches and everyone who studied and taught at the school, and supported it throughout its magnificent 147-year history; A school, whose history was never about new arenas or fundraisers. How many fans showed up for games or how many games were won and lost. But how many young men and women were prepared to enter the work force as teachers, accountants, journalists and musicians.

Thanks for all you've done Coach Gottlieb and Coach Olzsewski, but don't let the door hit you on your way out.

"I was never given any input," said Gottlieb. "I was never asked if we could get by with less scholarships or roster spots. I requested to speak with the president on two different occasions. One time I was denied, the second time they did not get back to me. She spoke to the kids Friday morning. I was not allowed to be there and she would not entertain any questions from the kids. She's supposed to be a president for the students. I haven't seen that in this whole process. I'm sorry she just hasn't exhibited that.

"Towson's athletic department used to be a family. Even both sides of campus. You knew each other. You enjoyed each others company. But this is different. The President speaks about how much she appreciates what we do in athletics but on Friday, and throughout this whole ordeal she hasn't talked to anybody, whether it's coaches or the media. She really hasn't explained what she's up against."

"I keep hearing the dynamics of athletics has changed," said Olszewski. "It's more of a business now. Hey listen. Athletics is about family and relationships. Always has been always will be. That's the thing I shake my head at now over this. I keep hearing we're expanding enrollment. We're growing. We're getting bigger. I'm for growth and change but what does it mean?As long as we don't lose who we are.

"The reason kids come here is they're searching for something that we've always had here. The close relationship you have with the teachers. We're regular people here, regular kids. They work hard, week to week and day to day. So do their parents. They're working class kids who want to be involved with the school. And they know when they come to Towson they're going to leave with an affordable outstanding education.

"We've always been a family. Now, I don't know. I love all sports. English Premiere League, the Caps, the Ravens, and the Orioles. I don't care what sport it is it's all the same. It's family. I see what the Ravens did this year and I see what the Orioles did last year. If you're telling me that's not family, then I don't know what's going on."

The pathetic lack of respect shown to Gottlieb, Olszewski and their players is one layer to this story. There are others.

President Loescke said Title IX was the main reason the two programs were dropped.

"That's a lie," said Patty Johnson, who works for the Department of Education and has access to all Title IX information. "There has never been a complaint filed against Towson for Title IX violations and there is not one now."

Johnson is the mother of Towson baseball player Kevin Ross, and is among a group of baseball parents, who have tried in vain to get an audience with President Loescke to share a long list of evidence they have to support that Mike Waddell's original recommendation to eliminate the programs is not rooted through Title IX, but a lack of fiscal control in the athletic department.

"When Mike Waddell got here in 2010," said Matt Butler, the father of Brendon Butler, a junior baseball player, "there was a surplus of $454,000. Now, there's a deficit of $1.3 million. Is that a Title IX problem or a financial problem? Since he took over they have increased salaries in the athletic department by $1.6 million and show a deficit of $1.3 million. Plus, the budget has increased from 2010 from $16 million to $18.2 million. And he's still in the red by $1.3 million.ö

"This is public information that a very reputable accounting firm has put together, yet we can't get anyone to listen to us. It's an absolute sham. Mike Waddell is no different than Bob Irsay. The arrogance, the ego, the abuse of power put them in the same mold. Both are not from this area and really don't care what anyone in the community thinks. It's insulting. This is about his personal agenda," Butler said.

"Title IX is not the problem," said Gottlieb. "They're not admitting and saying 'hey, we screwed up.' They're using Title IX as an excuse. Title IX is fixable and Title IX people will state they do not encourage men's sports to be dropped. And if there is a discrepancy the people in the office of Civil Rights will work with you in a period of a couple of years to come into compliance.

"If this were happening at state government at a higher level...oh boy this would be in the newspapers every day because the people's money is being miss-spent. They're not admitting we screwed up. We overspent," said Gottlieb.

The baseball parents remain rock solid in their pursuit of a different outcome. So is a group of local businessmen and alumni led by Gary and Mike Gill, Scott Hargest, a member of the task force, and John Scheurholz, the highly-respected President of the Atlanta Braves, who donated $250,000 12 years ago to upgrade the Towson baseball stadium, which is now called John R. Scheurholz Park.

Like the baseball parents, they pleaded with Loeschke for an audience. Unlike the parents they also came up with a financial alternative to save the programs, though that, too, fell on deaf ears.

"Befuddled," said Gary Gill. "I'm really befuddled."

"There was a report filed back in October when the recommendation was made to cut the programs," said Gottlieb. "It listed the roster sizes of each team, men's and womenÆs. Those numbers have changed. The final report Dr. Loeschke released on Friday had different numbers. Why? What happened?ö

"The report now has football with 11 more players, men's lacrosse with 12 more and a decrease in women's track by 28 and women's lacrosse by 6."

"They lied about the numbers," said Janine Fratantouono, the mother of Dominic Fratantouon. "Can you believe that?They lied about the numbers. They changed the numbers to support their stance that Title IX is the problem."

"I've e-mailed President Loeschke many times," said Johnson, "about the fact that we have proof that there is no Title IX issue. She refuses to listen to us," Fratantouono said.

President Loeschjke held another hastily called teleconference immediately after she met with the players Friday morning. There were no television cameras allowed and it lasted only 10 minutes. It was more circus than informational forum, with President Loeschke alluding time and time again to the report that she had released that morning. When the conference ended there were no questions taken.

Since then, both Loeschke and Waddell have declined interview requests.

"I would love for someone to tell us what we did wrong," said Olszewski. "If anywhere along the line, if one of my players was unprofessional or disrespectful. Hey, you got us. We're guilty. This baffles me. What did I ever do to them, I just don't know?"